


Essence of Murlap and Moonlight

by mialeave



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Universe, Could Be Canon, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Gestures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:41:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24742489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mialeave/pseuds/mialeave
Summary: “Fred? I need you to look at me.” She knelt in front of him, carefully placing a hand on his knee to rouse him.He moaned groggily, turning his head to her.“Hey, Fred. I’m going to help you, okay?”He furrowed his brow at her. “‘Mione?” He took in the towels, the bottles collected by her feet. “Okay.” His head fell back onto the cushion.ORHermione finds Fred after one of his detentions with Umbridge.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Fred Weasley
Comments: 6
Kudos: 299





	Essence of Murlap and Moonlight

The biting sting on his hand once again froze Fred in place. It was a tolerable pain, but now and then it would flare to near excruciating. This was one of those times, he had just brushed his hand on the back of one of the chairs. He sunk to the floor, rigidly trying to suppress a cry.

“You coming, Fred?” came George’s voice from up the stairs. He had gone ahead to crash in bed after their detention with Umbridge, eager for the day to be over.

“I’m just gonna hang out down here, maybe try and think of some way to retaliate.” Fred exerted the last of his composure to keep the pain from his voice. Thankfully the pain had subsided slightly.

“Okay. I’ll see you in bed in a bit then, yeah?”

Fred gritted his teeth, the pain flaring aggressively once again as he tried to raise himself to the sofa. “Sure.” It sounded choked but it was the best he could manage.

He managed to pull himself into a sitting position on the sofa, his hand cradled in his lap before the pain overtook him.

Hermione had been at the library late. A risky decision, she knew, especially considering Umbridge’s new educational decree enforcing a curfew. It had been important though- she needed to see if she could disband Umbridge as High Inquisitor. _There must be an old rule that forbids it,_ she reasoned to herself as she spent hours scouring old student handbooks. 

It was well past eleven as she snuck in through the portrait hole, immensely grateful for the shortcut Harry had shown her. She crept in, mindful someone may see her and report her for breaking curfew, but there were no spies watching the door. She was almost to the doorway leading out to the bedrooms when she heard the muffled whimper.

Her head shot back to the common room. At first glance, it had appeared empty, but after closer inspection, Hermione saw the top of a ginger head peeking out from the back of the sofa. She slowly approached, still unsure if she was about to spring a trap and land herself in trouble.

No such trap was set, however, she saw when she found one of the twins with their faces pressed into the cushions of the sofa. She gave him a once over, noting his uncomfortable position despite his unconscious state. It was Fred, she could tell by the lack of a mole on his neck. She continued to look him over but her eyes halted when they landed on his lap. He clutched his hand to him tentatively, blood coating the entire back of his palm.

She gasped. Surely this was not a common occurrence. With Harry, she reasoned that he had been on the receiving end of all the anger of the ministry but if Fred had received the same punishment...

She dashed out of the common room and to her bedroom, returning with armfuls of supplies.

“Fred? I need you to look at me.” She knelt in front of him, carefully placing a hand on his knee to rouse him.

He moaned groggily, turning his head to her.

“Hey, Fred. I’m going to help you, okay?”

He furrowed his brow at her. “‘Mione?” He took in the towels, the bottles collected by her feet. “Okay.” His head fell back onto the cushion.

Hermione carefully got to work cleaning up his soaked hand. When she had removed the majority of the blood to reveal a gouged _I must not break rules_ she choked. How could this have been done to a student? A seventeen-year-old boy. She soldiered on knowing he would remain in pain until she could help him.

She needed to remove his jumper, the sleeve fell to just past his wrist and got dangerously close to the wound on his hand.

“Fred, listen we need to take this off.” She said as she tugged slightly at the sleeve of his jumper. “I’m going to bunch it so nothing touches your hand, okay? You’re going to have to trust me, but I promise it will make it better.”

He barely responded but when she stretched the wrist of the sleeve and fed his hand carefully through. He didn’t wince, and she took that as a victory. Now that his long sleeves were out of the way, she could focus on fixing his hand.

He watched her as she collected ingredients into a bowl through the haze of pain obscuring his vision. Her messy hair was pulled back in a haphazard bun, a pencil still resting behind her ear. She met his gaze when she had finished mixing the paste.

“I’m going to put this on your hand. It’s going to sting slightly but it should soothe it quickly. When it’s been on for a while, we can soak your whole hand in this Murlap essence, alright?”

“Okay, Granger.” His voice was groggy but strong. He sharply inhaled when she first put on the paste, but as she finished coating his hand, the tension in his body slackened. The cooling sensation of the medicine felt like it was drawing his pain from him.

Hermione was relieved to watch the strain leave his face. After a few minutes, she moved his hand into a bowl and he instantly relaxed.

“Better?”

He sighed. “Much.”

She got up from the floor when she was sure he had the bowl balanced surely on his lap, coming around to instead sit beside him.

“What did you do?” She asked tentatively.

“The usual.” He shrugged. “Suppose we’ll just have to get better at getting away next time.” 

“Is George okay?” Hermione asked, eyes fleeting to the door leading to the bedrooms.

“He’s fine. She focused on me after I said she was an old bint. He should be okay after some rest.”

“Are you mad? Why did you do that? Why provoke her?” Her tone took on a slightly hysterical edge.

He looked into his lap. “She was going ballistic on some second years, really hammering down on them. We set off some fireworks to draw her away and if she’s focusing on _me_ , she’s not focusing on _George_.”

Hermione studied him until his eyes raised again from his hand. “You’re a good guy, Fred.”

“That sounds almost like a compliment.” He gave her a half-smile.

She huffed a laugh. “How’s the hand?”

“Much better, thank you.” Fred looked around, for the first time realising the lateness of the time. “Why were you down here? Couldn’t sleep?”

“Not quite, I just got in. I was in the library.”

Fred looked at her disapprovingly. “You call me the mad one. You realise if you’re spotted, you’ll get punished as well.” He raised his hand in the bowl slightly.

“Well perhaps not quite so drastically, maybe I’d just get a flogging.” Hermione tried to joke but Fred’s face remained unamused. “It was important,” She tried to reason.

“I should certainly hope so. You have to be more careful than ever now, if she does this to you there’ll be hell to pay.”

Hermione studied him for a moment. “She wouldn’t do that for breaking curfew and besides-”

“It doesn’t matter! Filch is chomping at the bit for any excuse to punish students nowadays. You can’t take that risk again and if you do I’ll go with you, I know far more short cuts and my legs are longer so I can help you run away faster.”

He had a point, if she wanted to evade the inquisitorial squad it would be a lot easier with Fred. “Alright fine, next time I want to go I’ll tell you first.”

“Good.” 

“I’m tired of all this,” Hermione admitted quietly after a moment. “I wish I could just go back to when my biggest fear was expulsion.”

“Me too, though I can honestly say I never feared being kicked out. I guess I was more scared of the potential hearing loss from the bollocking Mum would give me.”

“We were quite different people when we were eleven.” 

“Life was certainly easier back then.” Fred released a wistful sigh.

“I like to remember when I first came to the Burrow. Everything was all so amazing and new and everyone was so welcoming. It was the first place I think I’ve ever felt at home immediately.”

“I’m glad because, well, it is your home. We all love you being there, Dad especially, I think. You’re a lot more help with explaining how things like solar panels work. He honestly went on about it for a week after you left.”

Hermione smiled, remembering how she had made an effort to bring a textbook with diagrams explaining the conversion of light into electricity on the visit after Arthur had asked her and she wasn’t sure.

“What about you, what’s your favourite memory?”

He slid his eyes to her, his eyes squinted slightly and one eyebrow quirked. The chaotic flames of the fire casting a mischievous light on his face. “Do you remember the day you took us to muggle London last year?”

“Yeah, you insisted on going ‘full native’ so you left your wand at home.”

“Exactly. We got caught in the rain on the way home and due to my adhering to the strict rules of full immersion, I couldn’t cast an umbrella charm to shield myself from the downfall. Everyone was resolute that I deserved the soak but when they started to walk on, you offered to share your bright red umbrella with me. That was probably one of the happiest moments in my life.”

Hermione felt her throat catch. She remembered the day in vivid detail. Fred, being nearly a foot taller than her, had huddled low to share her umbrella. He had had to walk with the front of his arm pressed to the back of her shoulder to fit. When it rained Hermione could still hear his steady breaths near her ear, the warmth of his body against her side if she closed her eyes.

“Oh.” 

Fred pursed his lips and nodded slowly, eyes locked on the dwindling fire.

“I think about that a lot,” Hermione admitted. Fred turned to consider her. “I enjoyed it probably more than I should have.” Emboldened by the dim light and the sincere mood, she shuffled closer beside Fred.

He looked down at her with a soft smile. Perhaps it was the exhaustion from the pain but he felt brave and he took her hand in his, resting them both in her lap.

“Your hand is warm,” Hermione noted. She brought her other hand to enclose his, drawing from the warmth. “It’s nice.” 

Fred smirked at her. “We should do this more often then.”

“I think we should,” Hermione said, curling into his side.

“Hermione?” Fred asked after a few minutes.

“Yes, Fred?”

“This is real isn’t it, I’m not passed out on the sofa in some pain-induced dream? Because if it is, just admit it now and I promise I won’t be angry.”

Hermione laughed slightly at this. “You really think it might be?”

“Well, you haven’t told me to get lost yet. I’ll have to make the most of it,” Fred said as he adjusted his position. Much to Hermione’s surprise, he settled his head in her lap. “How very comfortable. The view’s not bad either.”

Hermione snorted, rolling her eyes at him.

“What? It’s one of my favourites.”

“Careful,” Hermione warned even as her hand came up to curl in his hair. “If you keep being so sweet, I’ll start thinking you’re in love with me.” 

Fred chuckled from his spot. “What could I ever have possibly done, to make you think that I’m not?”

“Maybe taking Angelina to the Yule Ball.” There it was, the thing that had kept Hermione from hoping Fred liked her back. 

Fred raised himself on one hand, turning his upper body so their faces were level. They were half-visible to each other now the light had died to glowing coals.

“You went with Krum.” It was a statement and an accusation.

She had, and she would be lying if she said she had had a terrible time. But she had spent a large section of the night watching him.

“You didn’t ask me.”

“You didn’t want me to.”

“Didn’t I?”

Fred stared at her sternly, trying to decipher her gaze through the darkness. “You didn’t even _notice_ me last year unless George and I were causing mayhem.”

“I always notice you,” Hermione replied just as vehemently.

Surprise crashed into him. His previous feelings of insecurity and jealousy washed away in the riptide. All that was left ashore was his love for the short, frizzy-haired girl in front of him.

“I always notice you, too.”

The blanket of darkness shrouded them from the world. The only thing each of them could make out in the wisps of moonlight was the face of the other. Hermione raised her hand slowly, hesitantly, to cup Fred’s cheek. As her soft palm slid across Fred’s skin he leaned into her touch, his face softening. They continued to stare at each other for a while, neither wanting to break the spell cast around them.

“Hermione, love,” Fred said with shaking courage. “Would you mind if I kissed you.”

Hermione brushed her thumb across his lips, her hand glided up further to again curl in his hair. She used her grip to slightly pull him towards her. Fred needed no more encouragement. He leant the rest of the way for a chaste, fleeting kiss. 

When he pulled back, remaining close enough that they still shared breaths, Hermione huffed a laugh. Fred joined her with a smile before recapturing her mouth. This kiss was deeper, their longing for the other bleeding through. They held each other tightly, hands occasionally roaming to rest in a new spot. 

Fred was more annoyed at Umbridge than ever. He had the use of only one of his hands, the other still soaking in the bowl. He groaned his frustration which fuelled Hermione’s impulse. She barely realised she was moving but she came to rest on her back below Fred. When his kisses lowered from her mouth to her chin, her neck, her collarbone, her eyes shot open in surprised pleasure. She could barely see anything in the silver-cast room, only felt Fred as he hovered above her. 

“Fred?”

“Hmm?” He asked, trailing kisses back up her neck to her ear. 

“I love you.”

Fred pulled back slightly, trying but failing to see her. All that he could do was give a light squeeze of her waist, a kiss on her cheek. 

“I love you too.”

They spent the rest of the evening bundled together on the sofa, the world a distant worry in their minds.

Fred would find out in the morning if it was indeed a dream. If it was, he figured it was worth the pain in his hand when he woke up. 


End file.
